Johnlock: I do (WARNING: GRAPHIC)
by Johnlocksinthetardis
Summary: A fanfiction about John and Sherlock's wedding! Do Mycroft and Lestrade hook up? And who's the unexpected guest with a crush on Molly? Read to find out! :D Contains lots of Johnlock and feels! If you don't like graphic then don't worry, I'll be writing a clean version, too. :)
1. Chapter 1

Sherlock and John opened the door to their flat and dropped the suitcases onto the floor. Mrs Hudson heard the noise and rushed up, her gentle smile flashing as she pulled them both in for a hug.

"Boys! Oh, I've missed you! How was Scotland?"

John smiled and pulled back. "Amazing, absolutely fantastic."

Sherlock smiled and sat down in his seat. "Yes, it was rather enjoyable. As much as I liked it, I did miss my chair."

Mrs Hudson laughed and sat down on the couch. "You and that bloody chair. Did you have a nice birthday, John?"

John glanced at Sherlock and smirked. "Oh, I had a great birthday, trust me."

Sherlock spoke up. "Just great? I thought you'd use a better adjective."

"Brilliant, then. The best." John smirked and winked at Sherlock, too discreet for Mrs Hudson to notice.

Sherlock chuckled and glanced at the table. He picked up his phone off it and chucked it to John, who caught it in mid-air. "Phone Lestrade and Molly, we might as well tell them all now."

"Will I invite them over?"

"Tell them what?" Mrs Hudson frowned.

"Yes, invite them over. And you'll see Mrs Hudson. I'm rather dissapointed you haven't noticed yet."

"Oh, dear. Noticed what?"

"Patience Mrs Hudson, patience."

John held up a finger and hushed Sherlock. "Hi, Greg? It's John. We're back from Scotland! Hm? Oh yeah, it was amazing. Anyway, can you come over? We have something we'd like to tell you. Okay, see you soon."

"Don't forget to phone Molly, too." Sherlock murmured softly.

"Yes, yes I know." John dialled Molly's number and held the phone to his ear. "Hey, Molly. It's John. I had a great time, thanks. Are you busy? That's good. Would you be able to come over today? Okay, that's great. Bye." John hung up and faced Sherlock, who was sitting comfortably in his chair. "That everyone?"

"Everyone important."

John nodded and sat down opposite Sherlock. He looked gorgeous, his curly black hair falling infront of his face and a slight smile upon his lips. God he loved him. Suddenly a realisation hit John.

"Sherlock."

"Yes?"

"We forgot Mycroft."

Sherlock snickered, took his phone off John and sent a text to his brother:

_Mycroft. Come to 221B now. It's important. _  
_-SH_

"There. He'll be here soon."

John shook his head and cast a look at Mrs Hudson. She was still sitting there, mildly paying attention. She was twisting his thumbs together, and looking round at the mess. As much as he loved her, he wanted her to leave- Sherlock got steadily more hot the longer he stared at him.

"Erm, Mrs Hudson? Could you go downstairs and get some food? We don't have any...also, you should stay down there until we're finished tidying the flat up a bit, don't want you to sit about in all this, um, mess..."

Mrs Hudson stood up and nodded. "Alright. Tidy up good! And remember to go shopping tomorrow, I'm not giving you food all the time. I'm your-"

"Landlady, not our housekeeper. Yes, yes we know. See you soon."

As she left the appartment, Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "What was that all about?"

John pulled Sherlock out of his seat as fast as lightning and crushed their lips together. He tangled his hands in Sherlock's hair and pulled him closer. The kiss was passionate and wild, but gradually turned slow and soft. He had no idea how long they were kissing for, all he could think about was Sherlock. John pulled back.

"That." he said.

"Oh...well," Sherlock shook his head. "I wasn't expecting that."

John pouted. "Bad surprise?"

"No, no definitely not. Good surprise. Great surprise..." Sherlock murmured quietly. "But why so randomly? Not that I'm complaining."

"I don't know, I guess I'm just excited each time I see the ring. And you look really really hot today." John smirked and placed a hand on Sherlock's chest.

"I look hot every day."

"Trust me, I know. With your cheekbones and the hair and the voice...it's all rather sexy if you ask me."

"If I'm that sexy, why are we still talking?"

Sherlock leaned down and planted his lips against John's, kissing deeper and more fiercely each second. John grabbed a handful of his shirt and lifted himself higher, his other hand looping around Sherlock's neck. Sherlock's tongue brushed against his lightly, always teasing, causing John to moan softly. The moan spurred him on, and he hoisted John up, forcing him to wrap his legs around Sherlock's waist. Grinning, John wrapped an arm around his neck as they navigated their way to the couch. He spun and lay him down gently. John pulled Sherlock on top of him, his hands drifting from hip to thigh. Sherlock made sure not to put his whole weight on John as he lay on top of him. John kissed Sherlock deeply and slow, deliberately nibbling on his lip softly. He placed his hand on Sherlock's chest again, only this time going more and more south. Sherlock broke away from the kiss and panted as John rubbed his bulge.

"Fuck, John. Stop, John- fu," Sherlock was cut off with another kiss from John.

"The more you talk, the harder I'll rub. I might even go inside the boxers..." John laughed in Sherlock's ear.

Sherlock bit his lip, touched his forehead against John's and groaned quietly. "Ugh. I want you to stop but It feels so good...Why do you always have to do this to me?"

"Because I'm your fiance, I get to do this."

John flipped over so Sherlock was on bottom. He unbuttoned his shirt with one hand, still rubbing with the other. As he planted a line of kisses down his chest, his hand slipped inside Sherlock's boxers and rubbed with even more force. He grinned as Sherlock gasped and threw his head back.

"John you... you better stop before I get too excited." Sherlock's breathing was heavy as he pulled John's hand away from his boxers. "We have guests over soon and I'd really rather not be sitting with a boner."

John propped himself up on one elbow. "I suppose you're right. We can finish off tonight."

Sherlock kissed him softly on the lips. "Yes, we will. Now please get off me. I have a cold shower to go take thanks to you."

John laughed and moved so Sherlock could get up. While he was in the shower, John tidied up around the appartment and put away their suitcases. Sherlock came out the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his hips.

"Better get dressed. They'll be here in five minutes."

Sherlock nodded and walked into the bedroom. When he emerged, his livingroom was filled with his friends and family. John was sitting on the arm rest of Sherlock's seat, talking to Molly, who was sitting on the couch. Her hair, normally up in a ponytail, was flowing freely down her back in gentle waves. Lestrade was sitting next to Mycroft, the two of them having a quiet conversation of their own. Mrs Hudson was bustling about in the kitchen putting nibbles into bowls for the guests. Sherlock sat in his seat next to John and waved his hand in a dismissive manner.

"Well. John can explain."

John made a 'tsk' noise and smiled politely at his guests. "Well, I guess you all want to know why we asked you to come here. It's pretty important. As you guys know, we went on holiday to Scotland a few days ago. While we were there..." John presented his left hand to everyone. "...Sherlock proposed!"

The room seemed to go into uproar. Mrs Hudson was laughing and hugging the boys, saying how happy she was for them. Molly looked genuinely happy for once, and she smiled brillaintly.

"That's great!" she cheered, giving them both a quick hug.

Mycroft blinked. "I was gay first, and you _still_ got a boyfriend before me...and now you're married before me too, unbelievable."

Sherlock chuckled. "Won't mother be happy her only two sons are gay. And if you opened your eyes, you'd be able to see who likes you. Rather surprising."

Mycroft shot a questioning look at Sherlock. He replied with a quick look at Lestrade, who seemed to find the floor very interesting at that moment. Mycroft smiled and sat back in his seat, looking at Lestrade every now and then.

"Also, Molly? We'd like to ask you something." said John happily.

Molly tilted her head curiously. "What is it?"

"Would you do us the pleasure of being our Maid of Honour?" Sherlock asked.

Molly jumped up and laughed with a hand over her mouth. She gave both of them another hug and sat back down with a smile on her face. "I can't believe it, this is amazing! I'd love to, thankyou."

"Good. Lestrade?"

"Yeah?" Greg looked up from the floor.

"Would you be my best man?"

"Yeah, yeah I will! Thanks guys, that means a lot."

John smiled and squeezed Sherlock's hand. "Thankyou, all of you. It's wonderful that you're all here to take part in this. We really appreciate it."

"But for now, you'd all better go home. John and I are rather tired from our trip back, aren't we?"

John looked a bit surprised at being put on the spot, but after a second of studying Sherlock's face he agreed. "Yeah, w-we're really tired. Sorry, we just wanted you guys to know as soon as we got back."

Their friends all nodded and bustled about, picking up phones and bags and exchanging goodbye's before they all left.

"What was the hurry all about? It was sort of rude." John turned on Sherlock with a raised eyebrow.

"Well I seem to recall a promise you made earlier this evening."

"Oh..." John smiled. "In that case, I can forgive the rudeness. They'll forget by tomorrow anyway; you're always a bastard."

"Ooh, harsh." Sherlock pulled John into the bedroom and pulled off his clothes in a matter of seconds.

"Fuck, that was fast. You must really want me." John chuckled jokingly.

"You have no idea." Sherlock had stripped himself and was facing John, a hungry look in his eyes.

John smiled deviously and pushed Sherlock onto the bed. He trailed his tongue down Sherlock's slender stomach, his hands planted firmly on his hips. Sherlock moaned as he felt his boner rise. John grinned and placed his hands on Sherlock's cock, and began moving them up and down slowly and tightly. Sherlock groaned and curled his fingers.

"Oh, fuck. _Fuck_."

They continued to lie there, the look of desire of Sherlock's face spurring him on. John grinned and pumped Sherlock faster, slowling down again when he saw his face.

"Hang on, don't cum yet."

"Not sure I have a choice in the matter." Sherlock hissed through clenched teeth.

John took his hands away and placed his mouth on the head of Sherlock's cock. He kissed it slowly, trailing his tongue around in gentle circles. Sherlock panted, his hands curling and uncurling at his sides. John took as much of Sherlock as he could in his mouth, sucking slowly. He pumped the rest with his hand, picking up speed when Sherlock's hips bucked in time with John.

"J-John, I-" Sherlock arched his back and let loose a loud cry of pleasure.

Sherlock ejaculated and fell back, panting. John swallowed his load and sat up, a triumphant look upon his face. Sherlock was sweating, his black curls sticking to his forehead.

"How was that?" John asked, with a raised eyebrow.

"There's not a word to describe it." Sherlock stared at the ceiling, his hand now laced with John's, who had moved up beside him.

"That bad, eh?"

"Oh shut up. You were... just wow."

"I'm glad It was enjoyable."

"How will we ever stop?"

"Who says we have to?" John winked.

Sherlock laughed and look at John. His eyes were such deep blue, and they always seemed to be moving, as if the irises were churning with emotion. Sherlock's own eyes were quick and sharp, and cold as ice. But next to John, it was almost as if the hardness melted away from him.

"I'll never be as good as you, you know."

John blinked. "Huh?"

"I don't have any skills in the bedroom department. I'll never make you feel like I did a minute ago."

"No skills my arse. All you need is practice. Something I'm very, _very_ willing to participate in."

Sherlock smiled and kissed John's forehead. "Practice does make perfect. But for now I think we should sleep."

"And why is that?"

"We have a wedding to plan."


	2. Chapter 2

John woke up with Sherlock's arm wrapped around him protectively, hugging him close to his chest. It was early in the morning and the sunlight danced around the room, a beam landing on John's face. Sherlock was still sleeping, which was unusual- usually he was awake by 9am. Carefully, John de-tangled himself and stood up, easing his way across the creaking floorboards. He managed to get into the kitchen without waking Sherlock up, and smiled at his achievement. Sherlock would usually bolt up at the slightest sound. John began to make breakfast with whatever he could find in the almost empty cupboards of their little kitchen. Luckily last night, Mrs Hudson brought up the basics: Eggs, Milk, butter, bacon and beans. It was enough for a breakfast anyway, which was exactly what John was making. Sherlock woke to the smell of cooking food. His outstretched arm searched for John and, and finding nothing, he opened his eyes. He realised John was cooking the food that smelled so good. With a yawn, he heaved himself up and walked into the livingroom. John looked up and gave a startled laugh.

"What?" Sherlock raised an eyebrow.

"Erm, you're naked."

"Oh, so I am. Be back in a bit." Sherlock walked back into the bedroom and pulled on a pair of boxers. He came back out and raised his arms. "Better?"

"Do a twirl."

Sherlock laughed and spun round for John. "Well?"

"Better."

"Shame. I thought you liked my body."

"The problem is I like it a bit too much...it's safer to cover it up."

Sherlock's arms snaked around John's waist and he rested his chin on his shoulder. "Safe is boring."

"I like this side of you, it's so..."

"Attractive? Sexy?"

John answered with a kiss on the lips. "New."

Sherlock smiled gently and accepted the plate John handed him. "So I'm guessing I'm not allowed any cases today?"

"You guess correct."

"What's on the agenda then?"

"For today? Venue."

Sherlock nodded. After breakfast, Sherlock went in a shower while John tidied up the kitchen, clearing away the dirty plates and binning the out of date food. When Sherlock emerged from the bedroom after a quick change, John gave a wide smile. "Well then. Let's go find a place to get married!"

"Actually, we don't erm... cater to _your_ kind in here." The man looked at them rather uncomfortably, he seemed to be entirely grey: grey hair, grey eyes, grey suit with a grey shirt and tie.

John's nostrils flared. "Our kind? And what exactly does that mean?!"

The man recoiled as is John was some sort of disease, like he might catch 'gay' if he touched him. "This is a house of the Lord. We will NOT taint that by having-" the man gulped and shuddered. "_Gays."_

John's eyes flashed with anger. Sherlock saw him clench his fists, as if wanting to punch the man. Sherlock had to admit, the idea of John punching him was very satisfying, but it would only get them in trouble. "John, nevermind. We can find somewhere else."

John clenched his jaw and nodded stiffly. "Fine."

As the turned to walk out, Sherlock heard the man mutter under his breath, "Good riddance."

He turned around faster than lighting and loomed over the small grey man. "It repulses me how you're tiny mind can't cope with the fact that marriage isnt about what gender the person is, but how much you love each other. Don't give me your preacher crap, either. The bible also says divorce is wrong, yet people get divorced every day. They don't get judged half as much as we do, do they? No. So don't think you're better than us, little man. Because I can assure you, _you are not._"

John stood with his mouth agape at Sherlock. Then he laughed. Brilliant pearls of laughter as he flooked at the man's face. "Oh, man. Let's go find somewhere else before this guy wets himself."

Sherlock walked with John out the building and laughed along when he was out of earshot. He wanted so badly to hit the man, but words could be just as good as fists occassionally. "Yes, let's."

"Well, this is the main hall. You'll come in here after the outside ceremony for the after-party. We have a few themes which we can do but if you have a specific idea in mind then I'm sure we can work somthing out." The woman smiled politely. She was tall and slim, with pale blonde hair scraped back in a bun and a clipboard in her hand.

John squeezed Sherlock's hand. They'd been driving all over London looking for good venues that hosted outside weddings and so far the ones that they had found were either homophobic, booked for the next two years or just not what they were looking for. The venue was a giant Victorian house that had been remodelled in a more fashionable, modern way. It was mostly used now for weddings and ceremonies, and the beautiful classy aura the building had captured John's heart from the moment he saw it. It was surrounded by fields and fields of bright green grass, and was perfect for John's desired outside wedding.

"I like this one. What do you think?"

Sherlock tilted his head. "If you like it I like it."

"Don't you have an opinion on this? It's our wedding after all, I don't want you to agree with me on everything." John's brows knitted.

"John, all I care about is marrying you. I don't care what the decorations are, or what the cake looks like. It's all up to you."

"I want us to choose this together. This is our wedding, not my wedding." John pouted slightly and looked up at his fiance.

Sherlock cupped John's face with one hand. "Fine. I want a silver and blue theme. Lillies as the flowers and blue lights crammed everywhere we can put them. I want a four tiered cake with blue flowers and silver icing up one side. Blue dresses for the bridesmaids and a matching tie for the best man."

John laughed and gave a wide grin. "Sounds perfect."

Sherlock smiled back and turned to the blonde woman. "Can you do that?"

"Well we can decorate the room. You'll have to get the cake and the flowers, but the rest I can do."

"Excellent! Right then, let's book it."

The woman led them to a small room with a table and chairs in the middle. She sat down in front of them and laid out a few pictures and forms. "Right. So when do you want the wedding?"

"What's the earliest we can get it?" John asked, biting his lip nervously.

"Well you can have it in four months, so around July? That's an incredibly busy month for weddings, you'll have to book now or someone else will take it. I'm surprised we even have a spot for you."

"Sherlock?" John turned to him with decisions flickering across his face. "Could we plan it all in four months?"

Sherlock studied the mixture of hope and worry on John's face and turned towards the woman. "We'll take it."

"Fantastic. If you'll just sign here please."

"Of course. Payment will be sorted in the next few days, I assume?." Sherlock scribbled his signature on the piece of paper and handed the pen back to the woman.

"Yes, it will. Well, it seems we're done here. If there's nothing else I assume I'll be seeing you boys later to sort out the hall?"

"Yeah, that's all for now, thanks." John shook the woman's hand and walked back to the car hand in hand with Sherlock.

"Can you believe it? We got the venue! The perfect venue! After only one day of searching! Do you even understand how lucky we are?" John gushed, excitement taking over.

"Well, I-"

"Four months. We have four months! Oh my God, how will we get this planned?!"

"I'm sure we'll mana-"

"We have enough money left right? And I'll do the cake and flowers tomorrow, you can do a case if you want? Bloody hell, We don't have enough time!"

"JOHN!" Sherlock shouted, rather annoyed at his fiance.

Startled, John shot back in his seat. "What?"

"Relax! You're driving me crazy! We have enough money left over, don't worry. And I'll stay home and see if anyone drops by. Phone me if you need anything, okay?"

"Yeah... sorry, sorry. I'm just excited and nervous and terrified and insanely happy all at the same time."

"One person couldn't feel all that at once, they'd explode."

"Give it a few minutes." John joked.

Sherlock parked the car and leaned over to him. "Everything will be perfect."

"Promise?"

Sherlock stroked his thumb across John's cheek and planted the softest of kisses on his lips. "Promise."


	3. Chapter 3

John pulled back from the kiss and smiled. "Well, I'm off. Have fun."

"I will. Remember, four tiers, blue flowers-"

"Silver icing, I know, I know."

Sherlock chuckled and grabbed John's chin. "I'll miss you."

"No you won't." John scoffed and wrapped a hand around Sherlock's wrist.

"Well I'll miss not being able to do this whenever I want..." Sherlock leaned down and kissed John, his arm snaking round his waist to support him.

"Well..." John paused. "I suppose that is something to miss."

"Oh, indeed." Sherlock brought his lips to John's again for another kiss. When John's lips parted and granted him access, Sherlock's tongue brushed against his slowly and gently, knowing exactly what he wanted.

John groaned and leaned against Sherlock, thankful that his arm was still wrapped around his waist. "Do you see what you do to me?" John broke away, panting.

"Yes. I must admit- it's fun to watch you go all weak and light-headed."

John shot Sherlock a '_shut up'_ look and glanced at his watch. "Sure you don't wanna come?"

"Are you kidding? I've got a dead-body filled day today, I'm not missing out on that."

"I'm guessing it's been a while since you've had a dead body case."

"So I'm a little excited, shoot me."

"There's something else I'd much rather do..." John trailed off with a wink.

Sherlock's eyes widened and he gave a quiet laugh. "Oh, well the case isn't _that_ fun."

"No, no. Take your case. Just wait, tonight might be the night."

"Might?"

John planted a quick kiss on Sherlock's kiss and walked to the door, leaving him with a slightly annoyed face.

"Wait, is it tonight or not?" Sherlock shouted after him.

Laughing, John closed the door and raced down the stairs.

About half an hours walk later, John found himself infront of a florists. The shop was large, and the fragnant smell of sweet flowers filled the room. The shop seemed to have every type of flower John could think of, and some more he didn't know. Their was lillies and roses, tulips and gaint daisies, all in huge colourful groups throughout the room. The sun shone down on him, the bright rays matching his mood. Smiling, John pushed open the door, the tinkling of the bell bringing a smiling assisstant up to him. Her light brown hair was short and curly and her hazel eyes were kind. She looked about nineteen.

"Hey! Can I help you with anything?"

"Yes, thanks. I'm getiing married in three months and I wanted to book you guys for the flowers?"

"Oh! Congradulations. That's fine, just come over here please." The girl walked over to the desk and pulled out a notepag and a scrapbook. "This is a scrapbook of some bouquets that our customers like. You dont have to pick one of these, you can have yours custom made, this is just for ideas and prices."

"Oh, right. What ones do you have of lilies? That's whay my partner wants."

"Lilies, beautiful choice." The girl smiled and opened to page 24-25These are some lilies that other customers have chosen. Do you like any of them?"

John looked over the pages before settling on a small bouquet of four pure white lilies. "These ones, I like these."

"Very prettty. What colour of ribbon do you want to bind them?"

"Is one blue and one silver okay?"

"Thats fine, what shade of blue?"

"Erm, dark blue, please."

"Okay. So what do you want with the flowers? Table decorations?"

"Well, our original hall is huge but since it's a small wedding, we moved to a smaller hall where there's about ten tables. So ten sets of four for the tables, one for the maid of honour. Three corsages, although just small blue flowrers for them. And a bunch of them for our arch too. If lilies are to difficult to put on the arch then we can do dark blue and white? Or silver if you could do that."

"We can do the arch with the blue flowers, definitely. For silver flowers, we can either use artificial, or paint them. Or use white even."

"Erm...I think we'll go with just blue thanks. Dark blue, actually."

"Okay then!" The woman got out a calculator and added up the cost. "£570. Is that okay?"

John nodded. "That's fine, thanks."

"Do you want to pay a deposit?"

"Actually, I'll just pay for it now if that's okay."

"That's fine. Card?

"Uh, yeah, thanks." John slipped Sherlock's card into the slot and typed in his pin.

"Thanks. So when do you want it all done for?"

"June 14th."

"Blimey! That's close!"

"But manageable?"

The girl sighed, put her hands on her hips and smiled. "Manageable."

"Great! Thankyou." John smiled widely.

"No problem. Just write down the venue?"

"My pleasure." John wrote down the address on the woman's note pad and, with a spring in his step, walked outside and called for a taxi.

After paying the taxi driver, John stepped out infront of the little bakers. It was quaint and sweet, with pale pink walls and a sign with yellow cursive writing that read _Christie's cakes._ As he stepped inside, the little room was filled with people bustling about buying pastries and cakes. He joined a que, and after a few minutes was greeted by another smiling girl. Her pale brown hair was scraped back into a bun and a pair of thick-rimmed glasses sat on the end of her nose.

"Hi, what can I do for you?"

"Hi. Erm, I was actually wondering if Icould get a cake for my wedding."

"Oh, sure. Custom made?"

"Yeah, thanks."

"Right, just wait over there and our head baker will see you in a minute."

John nodded and sat at a small table at the side of the room. In a minute, an old lady sat opposite him, her iron locks falling loosely around her waist. Her eyes were dark blue and she had crinkles by her mouth, as if she spent all her time smiling.

"Hi, there. I'm Chistie."

"_The_ Christie?

"The one and only. How can I help?"

"I'm actually wondering if I could get a cake for my wedding."

"Oh, congradulations. What are you looking for?"

"Well my fiance wants four tiers, white fondant. Also, blue flowers up the side and silver piping."

"Okay, so..." Christie sketched out the cake on her notepad. "...like this?"

"Yes, yes that's perfect."

"Good. What sponge?"

"Well we can't have chocolate because my brother-in-law is crazy about dieting. So I guess just plain would be okay, maybe one tier could be red velvet?"

"That's no problem. And writing or figures on the cake?"

"Erm, no. That's not really my fiance's thing."

"Your fiance seems like a very assertive person." Christie laughed.

"Yes... he is." John cringed, as if expecting a bad reaction, but Christie merely smiled and continued sketching the cake.

"Well, as long as you love him, eh?"

"Yeah." John smiled greatfully.

"So, for piping? Swirls? Loops?"

"Erm...you can do what you like with that. Just nothing too flashy, it's quite a quiet wedding."

"No problem, dear. When do you want it for?"

"June 14th."

"Alright. Will you pick it up or do you want it delivered?"

"I'll pick it up, thanks."

"That's fine. That'll come to about...£230. Would you like to pay now in advance?"

"Yeah, I might as well." John followed Christie to a card machine and slotted the plastic in. A few moments later, the cake was paid for.

"Love to meet you." Christie shook his hand and smiled again.

"Thanks, you too."

Sherlock lay on the couch, his satin robes tied loose around his hips. It felt so good to finally be out in the field again, finally geting back to solving mysteries and working his brain to the max. Now that he'd finished, though, the high seemed to be wearing off and he found himself yearning for John. He's lain there for about two hours, waiting. How long could it take for flowers and cake? Too long, Sherlock thought. Suddenly the sound of footsteps could be heard as John walked up the stairs. Walking in, he cast an eye at Sherlock and chuckled.

"What are you doing?"

"Waiting for you."

"I can't decide if that's cute or sad."

"Let's go with cute. Unless sad gets me pity."

"Why do you want pity?"

"Because with pity there's a chance of more..."

"More what?"

"Pleasureable activities."

"Pity sex?"

"Well I was trying to phrase it nicely, but sure."

"I'll go with cute, actually. Pity sex isn't very romantic."

"True. Alright, I'm cute."

"And modest, let's not forget modest."

"I'm really not."

"Shut up. Anyway, want to come shopping with me?"

"Why? Can't reach the top shelf?"

"Sometimes I hate you, you know that?"

"Yeah, but you love me more."

"True, you're my favourite asshole."

"How touching."

"I do try."

"It's clear. So, shopping it is then."

"Yep. Wait, that means I have to get changed."

"Oh, you are clever."

"I don't wanna get changed. You change me."

"Why? You're a grown man."

"Well excuse me for giving you an oppertunity for seeing my body..._again_."

"You say that like I should feel privelaged."

"You know you do, don't lie."

John laughed and raised an eyebrow. "Dressing you isn't what I had in mind to be honest."

"What did you have in mind?" Sherlock raised an eyebrow and faced John.

"I think you can guess."

"Maybe..."

"Maybe what?" John walked over and stradled Sherlock, his hands on his chest.

"Maybe shoping can wait til tomorrow." Sherlock gulped, his eyes on John.

John leaned down and whispered in his ear, "I think I can manage that."

Sherlock shivered and pulled John's jumper over his head, and then his t-shirt. His hands roamed his fiance's body, fingers trailing over the smooth muscles. "Who would guess you're so...tough and muscley..." he wondered, his eyes staring hungrily at John.

"Wool jumpers hide a lot."

"Indeed they do."

John tightened his legs around Sherlock's hips. His lips pressed against Sherlock's, his tongue delving deep and slow when granted access. Sherlock groaned and put a hand on John's neck, pulling him closer. Deviously, John ground his body against Sherlock's whilst kissing, tightening his legs around Sherlock's hips.

"Jesus, John. Why do you do this to me?" Sherlock broke away and blushed, very aware of the bulge in his pants.

"Payback." John winked and undid the knot of Sherlock's robe.

"Are we going to practice tonight?" Sherlock's breathing was quick and his eyes were locked on John's.

"You know what? I think we just might."

"In that case, I suggest the bedroom."

"I think you're right."

Sherlock sat up and quick as a flash, hoisted John up around his waist and kicked the door to his bedroom open. He lay John down on the bed gently and sat in front of him. Grinning, he eased John's trousers down till he was lying in just his boxers, a look of excitement on his face.

Suddenly Sherlock looked afraid, and he looked at John. "Help me."

"Sherlock, Sherlock. Calm down. It's alright, okay? Just relax. Breathe."

Sherlock took a few shaky breaths and attemped to slow his hummingbird of a heart. "John, I-I don't know what to do. I don't want to mess this up."

"You wont, you wont. All you need is practice. I know this isn't your element, Sherlock. If you wanna stop then we'll stop."

"I want to be good. I want to be like you, but I just don't know _how_."

John cupped his face. "Sherlock, relax. It's natural, I promise. Just do what you feel like, okay?"

"You'll tell me if I do something wrong?"

"Yes." John smiled gently and kissed him softly.

Sherlock breathed slowly and nodded. He could do this. Slowly, he pulled John's boxers down and placed his hands around John's cock. With a deep breath, he tried to copy John's actions, and slowly moved his hands up and down. John's own hands wrapped around Sherlock's, guiding him.

"That's all there is to it." He smiled, before leaning back and letting Sherlock continue on his own.

Sherlock, filled with a new confidence at John's approval, gave a silent laugh and pumped him faster.

"Tighter." John uttered, his eyes closed. His breathing was fast.

Shherlock obeyed and squeezed tighter, remembering how John went slow when he squeezed. Copying his actions again, Sherlock lost speed until he was pumping John incredibly slowly.

"Is this good?" He asked nervously.

"Are you fucking kidding? Sow and tight- It's like..." John's voice was laboured, like most of his energy was directed on the pleasure.

"Is that a good thing?"

"Yes. Fuck yes, it's like a good torture..."

"Oh, that's good then."

"Stop talking."

Sherlock grinned and pumped John faster, surprised when John's hips bucked in motion. Was he doing good? He thought he was, anyway. Good for a first time.

John's back arched and he hissed to Sherlock, "Move. Tissue, now."

Sherlock rolled to the side and plucked a tissue from the bedside table, handing it to John just in time. John cummed into the tissue and, empy of all energy, leaned out the bed and put it in the bin.

"So... how did I do?"

"Hm? Good. Good. Very good."

"Okay for-for a first time?"

John squeezed Sherlock's hand and smiled gently. "For someone who's never done anything like this, you've done fantasticly. I remember how nervous I was on my first time with a girl, and even then with you. It's never easy, but you managed perfectly."

"Always room for improvement though..." Sherlock winked and settled under the covers, soon joined by John.

"Oh, yes, Always." John laughed and turned out the light, waiting for tomorrow to come.


	4. Chapter 4

"Right, invitations. What would you like?" The man behind the desk asked them, his tan hands folded on his lap. He had black hair that messy enough to give him that just-rolled-out-of-bed look. His eyes were deep green and kind, and looked genuinelly interested as he talked to Sherlock and John.

"Nothing fancy. Just something that matches our colour scheme, I guess. Blue and silver."

"Alright. Well there's some designs in that book there if you'd like to look through them." The man pointed a finger at a leatherbound book on the desk.

John thanked him and opened it, pointing at one every couple of seconds. "That one?" he asked Sherlock.

"Too feminine."

"Okay..." John searched again. "That one?"

"Boring."

"This one?"

"Don't like the design."

"What about this one?" John was beginning to sound desperate.

"Hm, no. I don't like that."

"What one then?" John said, exasperated.

Sherlock trailed his fingers over the pages before settling on a simple style. It was dark blue, blended into a lighter shade at the centre. Along the left side was a white stencil of flowers and leaves, curving round where the text would be. "That one."

John looked at it and pursed his lips. "Alright, we can have that one."

"How many do you want?" The tan man asked from behind the desk.

"Well, let's see. I can invite my parents, they won't come though. At least I can say I did invite them. I'll only really be having my sister and about three friends from the army. Sherlock?"

"My parents. Mycroft. A special guest..."

"Special?"

"It's a surprise. Oh, Molly, Lestrade, Mrs Hudson."

"Should we invite Anderson?"

"What? Why?"

"Nice to be nice, Sherlock." John muttered.

Sherlock made some more faces of disbelief and scowled. "Fine, he can come."

"So, that's..." John paused and counted up the figures in his head.

"Fourteen invitations." Sherlock said.

John folded his arms. "Yeah, I know. Right, how much will that be?"

The tan man added up figures on his calculator. "Twenty-one pounds."

John took out his wallet and handed the man the money. "When can we pick them up?"

"Since it's only fourteen, you'll be able to get them in about... three hours."

"Alright, we'll be back soon. Goodbye." Sherlock said quietly and walked out the shop with John.

As the door closed behind them, John shoved his hands in his pockets and turned his head to Sherlock. "Who's the special guest?"

"Surprise."

"Tell me."

"No."

"Sherlock this is our wedding! You can't keep this a secret."

"I can and I will."

"But, I ju-. wha-" John took his hands out and shook them infront of Sherlock. "You're unbelievable."

Sherlock snickered. "Thankyou."

John grumbled and put his hands back. There was no point arguing-he wouldn't win. "Know what? Fine. Fine. Go ahead! Invite whoever you want. Not like it's our wedding or anything."

"You should go on that show," Sherlock smirked.

"What show?"

"Bridezillas."

John punched Sherlock's shoulder lightly. "Shut up."

Sherlock chuckled and nudged him with his shoulder. "I'm only kidding. C'mon. Let's go get the photogropher."

A quick taxi drive later, the men stood outside a the man's shop. Inside it was bustling with couples, all looking a certain photographs and deciding which photographer to book. As they stepped inside, they were greeted warmly by an old lady, with long auburn hair greying at the roots.

"Hello, boys. How can I help you?"

"We've got an appointment with George, actually." John said kindly to the old lady.

"Oh, right this way, dear." She led them through the shop to where a tall blonde man stood, working on his iPad. "George!"

"Huh?"

"These men have an appointment with you! Put away your i-thingy and help them." She scolded him.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry, guys. So, Mr Watson I presume?"

"Yeah. That lady seemed awful rough with you, is she allowed to do that?"

"She's my grandmother. She could hit me with a slipper and I couldn't fire her. If I did she'd probably hit me with the slipper again." George joked and shook their hands. "So, you wanna hire me to cover your wedding?"

John smiled. "Yes. I've seen your work, it's very good. Are you free for June 14th?"

"George picked up his iPad and looked through it, presumably on a calender. "Yep...it appears I am."

"Excellent! Well, it starts at twelve. You'd be there till about five, is that okay?" John tapped his foot nervously.

"Yeah yeah that's fine. Do you want a videographer, too?"

"Yeah, that's be great." John nodded and stood closer to Sherlock. "That _is_ alright, isn't it?"

"Of course, why wouldn't it be?" He asked, looking down at John.

"I just wanna make sure I'm not taking control of this whole wedding, that's all."

"John, you're a bridezilla. Embrace it."

John scrowled and nudged him. "Ass."

Sherlock laughed at looked at George. "How much for both of you?"

"For both of us from twelve to five, it would be eight hundred. It's a bargain, we're both fully qualified and all my staff have spent at least three years studying photography and have covered weddings before. The cameras are high-quality and will take really good pictures and videos. It's worth the money."

"That's really good!" John mused and looked at Sherlock. "What do you think?"

"I don't know how much these things cost usually. But I assume it's a good price." Sherlock said, leaning against one of the counters.

"Yeah, we'll take that deal please." John said, and he and Sherlock followed John to the counter.

"Gran, they're taking the eight hundred deal, okay? Write down all their details and put it in my appointment book for June fourteenth, too." George gave them a quick smile and was off to help other customers.

"Hello, dear. Now, if you could just fill out this form, please. It's just names, venues, times, things like that. I'll write it in his appointment book while you do that." She handed Sherlock a pen. Once he'd written all the inforamation, she took the pen off him and wrote down the venue and times in an old appointment book. "Thankyou. He's got all his information on his i-thingy, but I always telll him it's better on paper! Was he polite to you?"

"Oh, yes. Definitely." John assured the old lady and shook her hand. "Well, goodbye."

"Goodbye, boys. Have a nice day!"

Sherlock walked out and sighed. John turned to face him and noticed his weary expression.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm just tired, that's all. And hungry. And _bored_." Sherlock grumbled, the light wind blowing his hair away from his face.

"I'm sorry planning our wedding isn't exciting for you. Would you like to go home? I'll do it myself. I'm clearly more interested than you." John said coldly, throwing his head down and walking faster.

"What? John, no-" Sherlock placed a gloved hand on his shoulder and turned him around.

"All you'd have to do then is show up." John clenched his jaw and looked away.

"John, stop! I never meant that, okay? All I was saying is that I never knew how much preparation went into a wedding. I'm excited to be marrying you, trust me. It's just all the middle part that's boring."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. I'm just stressed. We have so much to do!" John lay his head against Sherlock's chest.

Sherlock blinked. "We do? I thought we'd done pretty much everything."

"Are you kidding? We have to get fitted for suits, once a month until the wedding. We have to buy suits first though. And get Lestrade a tie. And dresses for the bridesmades, who'll also have to be fitted. We've got to get a band to play, and check the menue for the catering. We'll have to reserve rooms in hotels for out of town guests, like my sister, friends and your parents. We've got to plan the honeymoon, mail the invitations, arrange transportation, book the rehersal dinner, find out who's giving speeches, buy rings, get makeup and hair artists for the bridesmades, give the band a list of songs we'd like them to play, decide whether to write vows or go origional-"

"Alright! I get the point. Weddings are hard to plan." Sherlock looked shocked; how could it involve so many things?

"_I know._" John said exhaustedly. "That's why I'm so stressed!"

"Okay, okay. What's next for today?" He asked, giving John a hug to calm his nerves.

"Next? Lunch. I'm starving."

Sherlock gave a silent laugh and let go of John. "Let's go get food then. Then we can pick up the invitations and go home."

"Sounds like a plan."

**In the cafe.**

John ate his salad, putting pieces of lettuce and chicken into his mouth slowly as he looked out the window. It was chilly, but the sun seemed to be straining to show through the clouds, as if desperate to break free. Sherlock eyed John's meal.

"Why are you eating salad?"

"Don't wanna be fat at the fitting."

"You're not fat anyway. You don't even like salad."

"I'll learn to." John shovelled more of it into his mouth to prove his point.

"You are such a woman sometimes."

"Please, what would you know about women."

"I lived with Mycroft for a very long time. I may not know much about relationships, but I know plently about yo-yo dieting and crying because you're too fat to get into jeans, or-"

"Wait, wait-" John laughed and wiped his mouth, "Mycroft cried because he couldn't fit into his jeans?"

Sherlock chuckled. "Well, not cried exactly. But he did have a temper tantrum and ate carrot sticks for a week."

John laughed loudly and rubbed his eyes. "Oh man, poor guy. He's thin now though."

"We should get the band to play 'Big Girls You Are Beautiful' By Mika, just so he knows he can have all the cake he wants and Lestrade will still want him."

"Wait, Lestrade? Is _everyone_ gay?"

"Well, I wouldn't class us as gay. I'm more asexual and you're..."

"I don't even like men. Only you."

"Selectively gay, you're selectively gay."

"Is Greg selectively gay, too?"

"I'd say he's just crazy. Anyone who likes my brother has to be."

"Says the psychopath." John muttered under his breath, smirking.

Sherlock turned on him and put on a stern voice. "I'm not a psychopath! I'm a sociopath, there's a difference."

"Did I say psychopath?" John feigned shock. "I meant sociopath."

"Eat your salad." The corner of Sherlock's mouth turned up.

"Yes, Sir." John mock saluted him and picked at his lunch.

"Oh, I like that." Sherlock whispered, facing him.

"Like what?"

"The 'Yes, Sir'. We have to use that more often."

"Oh. Technicaly it should be me giving the orders but I'm, you know, I'm willing to share." John smiled and took a drink from his can.

"Either way is good with me. I wonder if you're hot in uniform." Sherlock eyed him up.

"Stop undressing me with your eyes." John joked "Anyway, I'm hot in everything, you should know that."

"I do. But I'll definitely have to see you in uniform sometime."

"I haven't worn it since I came back. But it's probably lying about the flat somewhere," John said, trying to think.

Sherlock nodded and finished the rest of his coffee. "Ready to go get the cards?"

"Yeah." John left the rest of his salad and placed the money under his plate. "Let's go."

**At home.**

John and Serlock sat on the couch, legs crossed in a basket. They were writing on the invitations by hand, to save a bit of money. Sherlock's handwriting was slanted and curling, whereas John's was small and detached.

Each card read:

_Mr. Sherlock Holmes and Mr. John Watson  
Invite you to join them in their celebration of marriage,_  
_On Saturday, 14th June at 12 o'clock._  
_At the Quinn Mansion, London._

_Reception to follow in the Rose Room._

_name: _

_ _Will attend.  
_Will not attend_.

"Right, that's one for my parents, one for my sister and three for some friends done. What about you?" John asked, sticking the card carefully in the envelope and writing the name on the back.

"Finished my parents. Mycroft's too. Just got my, ahem, _other_ guest to do. You can do our friends. And Anderson's." Shrlock smiled brightly and set to work on his last invitation.

John shook his head and picked up another blue sheet. He wrote the same thing again and adressed the label to Mrs Hudson. A minute later, he was finished Molly's, Greg's and Anderson's. "There, done. We can give them out tomorrow." Don't forget the adresses for your parents."

"I know, John. I have written a letter before."

"Okay, sorry. Just making sure." John set his pen dpwn and flopped exhausted against Sherlock. "It's been a long day."

Sherlock shifted and leaned back, John leaning against his chest. "Tell me about it."

John stretched his legs out and nuzzeled against him. "I am so worn out."

"It'll all be worth it, don't worry." Sherlock kissed the top of his head and wrapped an arm around him.

"I know it will. You're worth it." John mumbled, face pressed against his chest.

Sherlock smiled and hugged John tighter. It felt so good to be next to him, to have him so close. It seemed to make everything else melt away.

"Sherlock?" John yawned, his hand draped around Sherlock's waist.

"What?" he asked quietly.

"Sing me a song."

"What? Sherlock laughed quietly and rubbed his thumb across John's hand.

"Please."

Sherlock was silent and John began to wonder if he'd do it. Then he heard the low voice at his ear. "Yes, Sir."

John smiled and closed his eyes.

Sherlock took a deep breath and sang quietly.

"_Settle down with me_  
_Cover me up_  
_Cuddle me in  
Lie down with me_  
_And hold me in your arms_

_And your heart's against my chest, your lips pressed to my neck._  
_I'm falling for your eyes, but they don't know me yet_.  
_And with a feeling I'll forget, I'm in love now..._

_Kiss me like you wanna be loved_  
_You wanna be loved_  
_You wanna be loved_  
_This feels like falling in love_  
_Falling in love_  
_We're falling in love..._

_Settle down with me_,  
_And I'll be your safety_.  
_You'll be my lady.  
I was made to keep your body warm_,  
_But I'm cold as the wind blows so hold me in your arms..._

_Oh no_,  
_My heart's against your chest, your lips pressed in my neck._  
_I'm falling for your eyes, but they don't know me yet_.  
_And with this feeling I'll forget, I'm in love now.._

_Kiss me like you wanna be loved_  
_You wanna be loved_  
_You wanna be loved_  
_This feels like falling in love_  
_Falling in love_  
_We're falling in love_

_Yeah, I've been feeling everything from hate to love from love to lust_  
_From lust to truth I guess that's how I know you_  
_So I hold you close to help you give it up_

_So kiss me like you wanna be loved_  
_You wanna be loved_  
_You wanna be loved_  
_This feels like falling in love_  
_Falling in love_  
_We're falling in love_

_Kiss me like you wanna be loved_  
_You wanna be loved_  
_You wanna be loved_  
_This feels like falling in love_  
_Falling in love_  
_We're falling in_ _love_..."

When he looked down, he saw John was sound asleep, a slight smile on his lips. He seemed so much younger when he sleeped. All the worries and stress, all the bad memoried and regrets, they all seemed to melt away.

Sherlock smiled and kissed his lips gently. "Let's get you to bed."

Carefully, he shifted round and slid his hands under John and lifted him up. Making sure not to jolt him, he carried him to the bedroom and laid him down gently on the bed. He flung his own coat over a chair and changed into some pyjammas. John was still fully clothed and laying on the bed. With his hands on his hips, Sherlock huffed a sigh and took John's shoes off. He managed to get his jeans off him without waking him up, and slipped him into some pyjamma bottoms.

"You really are tired, aren't you?" he whispered quietly. Of course there was no reply, John was still sleeping soundly on the bed.

Sherlock shook his head and smiled. He turned the light out and climbed in next to John, pulling the covers up over him. Leaning over, he planted a kiss on his cheek.

"Goodnight, soldier."


	5. Chapter 5

John woke up next to Sherlock, their limbs entwined. He smiled and cupped Sherlock's face, rubbing his thumb repeatedly over his cheekbones. Suddenly, a devious desire took over John. Things had been so stressful lately that he wanted to have a little fun, even if Sherlock wouldn't like it. _Well,_ John thought. _He will like it... he just won't like me for doing it._ Grinning. John let his hand slip further and further south, down Sherlock's chest. He didn't stop when he reached the waistline of his pyjamma trousers; he slipped hs hand in and teased until he felt Sherlock respond. When he started to stir, John withrew his hand and, shaking with silent laughter, snuck out the bedroom and into the livingroom. Not a minute later Sherlock stormed in, his housecoat billowing behind him.

"John?" He seethed.

John attempted to turn his snigger into a cough and failed. "Yes?"

"Would you like to explain why I've woken up with a boner?" Sherlock angrily pointed to his trousers, a noticeable lump pressing against the material.

John gave an impish grin and a small burst of laughter that spiralled into a fit of giggles. "Oh God," He breathed, hugging his stomach. "I'm sorry, I really am. Actually, I'm not. It's really funny!"

Sherlock glared at his fiance and huffed. "Not funny for me. How would you like it if I did that to you?"

"Well..." John mused, a cheeky grin on his face. "It depends on what follows."

The corner of Sherlock's mouth turned upwards. "What follows this?"

John winked. "Could be something. Might be nothing." Laughing, he walked past Sherlock back into the bedroom and began to get changed.

Bewildered, Sherlock followed and crossed his arms. "You are...ugh."

"I know. I should apologise, but I don't know- it's sort of fun to keep you guessing."

"Shut up and get changed." Sherlock rolled his eyes and got changed himself. Just as he was about to put his suit jacket on, John interuppted him.

"You look _really_ good with that white shirt on." It was true; the shirt clung to Sherlock's chest, showing his lean muscles and flat stomach.

"Better than the purple shirt?"

"Hmm..." John pursed his lips in thought. "No. The purple shirt wins."

Sherlock flashed him a quick grin. After they were changed, Sherlock had made them some coffee. It was strong and left a bitter, but not unpleasant taste in John's mouth. Sherlock watched John curiously. The worry lines around his eyes weren't as noticeable and the bags under his eyes seemed a little less purple.

"You slept really heavy last night. Didn't wake up when I changed you or anything." Sherlock sipped his coffee and leaned back in his seat.

John smiled slightly. "Must of been your singing."

"I can't even s-"

"Yes you can. You can admit that you're outrageously smart, and brag about seeing things nobody else can notice, but when it comes to singing you can't admit you're good at that?"

"Well...I'd need helium to reach the high notes, obviously."

John choked on his coffee and coughed violently. When he opened his mouth, a laugh bubbled out. "Oh my God, I'd pay to hear that."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Nope. Never going to happen."

"You could re-form the BeeJees." John laughed, his hand covering his mouth.

"Shut up." Sherlock tried to be stern, but he was holding back a smile.

John sighed and chugged back the rest of his coffee. "Today will be good."

"What are we doing today anyway? Any chance of a day off?" Sherlock asked hopefully; he was so tired of all this wedding lark. Why couldn't is just be as simple a getting a venue and rings?

"A day off? Are you kidding? Four months to plan this, and you want a day off?!" John stared at him, wide-eyed.

"Okay, okay, no. No days off. Got it." Sherlock backed away and drank the rest of his coffee.

John softened. "Sorry. But we really can't afford to take a break, or at least not until we have the major things done."

"It's alright. So what _are_ we doing today?"

"Dresses."

"Oh. Fun." Sherlock set his mug aside. "So, Who's our bridesmaids again?"

"Molly's our maid of honour. My sister is the other bridesmaid."

"Right. Okay. Well, don't we need both of them to try on the dresses?"

"Yes."

"Well... what about your sister? She's not here." Sherlock pointed out matter-of-factly.

John opened his mouth to reply when someone knocked on the door. Witha pained smile, he got up and opened it. A tall tan woman with an oval face bounced through the door. Her hair was huge, a giant mane of honey blonde curls. Sherlock was shocked, how did she even tame that in the morning? Her eyes held a sense of mischief and she had laughter lines around her mouth as if she smiled a lot. "Little brother! Hello!" She gave John a quick hug and he squirmed uncomfortably.

"Harry, move." He pushed her away and fixed his jumper. "I'm not your little brother."

Harry smiled widely and wrapped an arm around him. "Yes you are. You got dad's genetics. You're smaller than me."

John glared at her and waved a hand at Sherlock. "Harry, this is Sherlock. Sherlock, this is Harry."

"So this is your boyfriend!" Harry mused, looking Sherlock over. "Nice cheekbones, for a man."

"Fiance, actually." Sherlock corrected her. "Nice hair."

"Isn't is just? John used to be so jealous of it when we were little. He'd always ask our mother why I had it and not him." Harriet laughed and John's cheeks flamed red.

"Harry, enough." He glared at her. Being around Harry was never easy; there was always that uneasy silence if they were left in a room together.

"Fine, fine. So, why my brother? What's so special about him? Is he good in bed?" Harriet faced Sherlock, a wild look in her eye.

Sherlock blanched- what kind of question was that? John spun her round and looked at her icily. He was smaller than her, but his glare quietened her down. "Harry, please. Leave Sherlock alone. Just this once, please don't act up."

Harriet broke the contact and crossed her arms. She didn't like John dampening her mood. "Fine. But there better be good looking girls at this wedding. I'm bored of being single."

"It's a small wedding, Harry. And not everyone we know is gay, you know."

"Please, I've been turning straight girls gay since I was sixteen." Harriet grinned and nudged John.

"I'd rather not think about that right now. Let's just go get Molly and get these outfits sorted." John said wearily. He knew having Harry around would be tiresome. He always wished he hadn't invited her. But, alas, she was his sister. John couldn't ignore that, no matter how hard he tried.

"Sure thing. And by the way, I'm officially not an alcoholic! One whole year without a drink. I'm doing good, little brother." Harry gave John a small smile filled with pride.

John turned to Sherlock. He raised his eyebrows in question: _Has she?_ Sherlock gave a small nod in reply. This time it was the truth, Harry really had been sober for a year.

John grinned and gave her a quick hug. "That's great, Harry. I'm proud of you, well done."

Harry pushed her brother away jokingly and walked to the door. "Thankyou. Now let's go get these dresses. And because I'm nice, you can take my car."

As the stopped outside Molly's appartment, Sherlock beeped the horn twice. A few seconds later, Molly appeared. She was wearing skinny jeans and a tight fitting tank-top with a cardigan. Her face, ususally bare of makeup, had been made up with some lipgloss, blusher and a bit on eyeiner. Her hair was up in a french pleat and fell softly down her back. As she scrambled in beside harry, she gave a nervous smile and shook her hand.

"Hi. I'm Molly." She said shyly.

Harry shook her hand and smiled, looking her over. "Harriet. Call me Harry. I'm John's sister."

Molly looked in shock at the giant mass of hair coming from Harriet's head. _How can someone have so much hair?_ She thought. "I, erm. I really like your hair. It's very..."

"Big? I know. Thankyou. I was planning on taming it when I was geting ready but I slept in a bit and didn't have time."

"I like it like that. I had to get up a bit earlier so i could have time to break in these jeans. Sinny jeans are really hard to get on." Molly laughed quietly. Something about Harry just made her relax a litle. Maybe it was just because she was so chatty, and smiling.

Harriet leaned closer to Molly and whispered. "Not that hard to get off though, in the right situation..."

John's voice cautioned her from the front. "Harry! Stop flirting with Molly! She's not a lesbian."

Harry laughed at her brother. "Give it time."

"Harry!" John started at her and shook his head. "Stop it. If you're gonna flirt, do it with a willing participant. And out of earshot, thankyou very much."

"Oh, John. I forgot how wild and fun you are." She said sarcasticly, drumming her fingers on her leg.

Molly blinked and shook her head. _Did I just get hit on?_ She wasn't sure how she felt about that. As flattered as she was, she was still very sure still liked men. She gave a quick smile and shook her head slightly. Harry leaned back and nodded, understanding what Molly was saying.

"Sorry, Molly. Won't happen again. I'm just flirtatious...what can I say?" Harry grinned and attempted to run a hand thorugh her hair.

Molly wondered how her hand didn't get lost. She smiled and gave a small laugh."It's okay. If I ever change my mind I'll let you know."

Sherlock looked at John and caught his attention. "Are we picking Lestrade up, too?"

John shook his head. "No, he's actually got a suit already. He just needs us to get the blue tie."

"Okay. Well, we're here. Everyone out, please." Sherlock stopped the car and left, waiting only for John.

The two women walked behind them, talking as the entered the bridal boutique. John walked up to the desk and asked the woman at the front, "Hi. We actually want to get two bridesmaid dresses. Is there any chance we could do that now, please?"

The woman nodded and stood up. Her black hair was pulled back into a pony tail and her skin was tan, as if she'd been abroad for a while then come back. "Sure. I'll help you with that. What colour are you looking for? And style? That way you can all sit in the room through the back and I'll bring in the dresses that match."

"Oh, great. Um, dark blue. And floor lenth. And a silver sash for the maid of honour?" John asked politely.

The woman nodded and guided them to a room with mirrors all along the walls and a big curving couch in the centre. "Just sit here and I'll get the dresses. Won't be long."

As they sat down, John found himself taking Sherlock's hand. He felt like they'd barely touched since this morning. Sherlock gave John's hand a gentle squeeze and rested his chin on the top of his head. He hoped Harry wasn't staying with them- otherwise he'd never get to find out what follows waking up with a boner. Quickly, Sherlock tilted his head to Harriet.

"How long are you staying for?" He asked her. His words were sharp and quick.

"I don't know. A few days. Maybe a week. I haven't really thought about it." She replied, unfazed by Sherlock's manner.

Molly leaned forward and got Harriet's attention. "You can stay with me if you want? I live on my own anyway, might be nice having some company for a change."

Harriet smiled and ndded. "That'd be great, thankyou. I live alone too. It's so boring sometimes, there's never anyone to talk to."

Molly sighed and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "I know! I would get a pet but I wouldn't be home during the day to walk it and stuff."

"I'll substitute as a pet then." Harry grinned. "You won't even have to walk me. Plus I've brought enough money for a few nights at a hotel, so that should help out with food and stuff if you need to get anything."

As the two girls continued to talk, John leaned closer to Sherlock and whispered so the girls didn't hear him. "They get on pretty well."

"They do. Better than I thought. Molly's usually shy."

"She must like Harry already. Imagine if they became best friends." John mused.

"Who knows. They might end up living together."

"You think? As flatmates or-?"

"Flatmates. I mean, both live alone. Both are lonely. They seem to get on fine and Harry might want to live closer to her brother." Sherlock said, weighing up the points.

Just as John was about to reply, the woman walked in with seven dresses in each hand. "Right. Here we go. Stalls are there, so you two can just go and change into these. Let me know if you need anything." She placed each dress on the rack and left the room.

The two girls pawed thorough the dresses, casting the ones they didn't like to the side. "This one?" Molly asked, lifting up a strapless pleated dress.

Harriet looked at it and shook her head. "Nope, that woud make my shoulders look broad. How about...this!" She lifted out another dark blue gown with a low cut front and a slit up the side.

Molly gave a disbelieving laugh. "Are you kidding? We'd be freezing! Plus I'd rather not show that much skin."

"Oh, Molly. How innocent you are." Harriet laughed and set the gown aside.

"I'm not innocent. I'm, I'm sophisticated." Molly said proudly, her mouth twitching under the urge to laugh.

Harry grinned and giggled. "Oh, yes. Definitely. You're sophisticated and sultry."

Molly laughed and gave Harriet a smouldering look. "This is my sultry face."

"That's amazing. Do you practice that before you got to bed?" Harry snickered, laughing at Molly's furrowed brows and pursed lips.

"Oh yeah. I always look through my eyebrows. It's the best way to see the world."

John stared at Molly in awe. She'd never been so confident in all the time he'd known her. How had his sister managed to make her come out her shell? Sherlock cocked his head as if he knew exactly what John was thinking. "It must be the hair. It's magical."

"It's filled with secrets." John laughed, making sure she couldn't hear. "That's why it's so big."

Sherlock chuckled quietly and eased back on the couch, waiting until the girls had found the right dress. Eventually, they both agreed on one. It had off the shoulder straps like Belle's gown, and a sweetheart neckline. It was tight at the waist then fell softly to the ground and puddled gently at the feet. "Get the girl to get them in your sizes." John said, smiling at the excited look on Molly's face. A minute later, both girls stepped out of the stalls wearing the dress. Molly wore a size ten, and the dress clung to her petite frame, showing off her prominent collarbones and delicate shoulders. Harry had opted for a twelve, and the dress clung to her volumptious frame delishiously, showing off her hourglass figure. Both women looked stunnning. The woman came in with Molly's silver sash and tied it delicately at the back so it fell smoothly like the dress.

"We can shorten yours up a bit, if you want." She said to Molly, pointing at the pool of material around her feet.

Molly turned to John and waved her hand. "It's up to you."

"Would you feel more comfortable with it shortened?" John asked her, smiling at her inability to make a decision.

"Erm...I'll be alright, thanks. I'll be standing for the most part. And if I have to walk I'll just lift it up." She said, twirling the dress at her feet.

"Okay then. Anything wlse I can do for you?" The black-haired lady asked.

"Yeah. A blue tie in the same colour. Actually, three blue ties. We'll need them, too." John realised. After they seen the ties, Sherlock whipped out his credit card and paid for it all. The total was just shy of two hundred pounds. When they were back in the car, John rubbed his hands together and put the radio on. "That was really good, can't believe we got it all for that cheap."

"Yeah, and they're really pretty, too." Molly piped up from the back.

Sherlock looked in the rear-view mirror at Molly. "Are we taking Harry to yours?"

"Erm, yeah." Molly have Harry a quick smile.

"My clothes are in a suitcase in the boot anyway, so you can just drop me off." Harry said, glancing at Sherlock.

He nodded and continued driving. Soon they were outside Molly's house. "Goodbye. Make sure to go to those fittings by the way. Dont gain any weight. Don't lose any either."

"Such a lovely farewell." Harry muttered. Before she got out the car, she leaned into the front and planted a kiss on John's cheek. "Bye little brother. See you soon." She then leaned to Sherlock and before he realised what was happening, gave him a kiss on the cheek, too. "Goodbye, brother-in-law." And then she was gone.

When they walked into their flat, Sherlock rubbed his cheek. "I can't believe she kissed me. People aren't meant to kiss people they just met. They aren't, are they?"

John chuckled. "No. That's just Harry though. She was always very touchy-feely when we were younger."

"I don't like people touching me or feeling me. Or kissing me, either."

"Really? I'm not an exception?" John feigned shock and turned away from Sherlock.

A pair of familiar arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him close. "Fine. You're the exception. The _only_ exception."

John grinned and turned to kiss Sherlock. When their lips met, John's heart quickened and the butterflies in his stomach flew around like crazy. He pulled away and looked into Sherlock's icy blue eyes. "No matter how many times we do that, I'll always feel like it's the first time."

Sherlock smiled and cupped John's face. "Each day with you feels like the first time. No matter how many times I look at you, or how many times we kiss or even when we cuddle on the couch together...it'll always seem new to me. And I love that."

"And I love you." John said, leaning up to rope his arms around Sherlock's neck.

Sherlock gave John such a light kiss he wondered if he'd imagined it. "I love you too."

"You know what? We can take tomorrow off." John said, his lips tugging into a smile. "We deserve it."

"Really? What will we do?" Sherlock asked, his eyes dancing with interest.

"Lie on the couch. Watch a movie. _Find out what follows..." _He whispered in Sherlock's ear and felt his body go tense.

"That," He said, giving him another kiss. "Sounds like a plan."

John chuckled and ran his fingers thorugh Sherlock's hair. "Good."

"Although, we could always do the latter tonight," Sherlock said mischieviously.

"We could... but I like making you wait." John winked and smiled wickedly.

"John Watson, you are so much work." He sighed and placed his hands on John's hips.

"But worth it." John pressed his lips against Sherlock's and let his hand drift downwards inbetween Sherlock's shoulder blades.

Sherlock groaned and placed his forehead aginst John's._ Why do you do this to me? _He thought.

"You know how I liked the white shirt?" John asked, his voice low. "I think I'd like it better off..."

Sherlock grinned and gave John a taste of his own medicine. "Guess you'll just have to wait till tomorrow, then."

John leaned up to Sherlock and whispered in his ear. "I can wait. Can you?"

Sherlock swept John up into his arms and kicked the door to their bedrom open. "Tomorrow," he said, his breathing rugged. "Better hurry up."


End file.
